


Integrity

by streetsuss_serenade



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/streetsuss_serenade/pseuds/streetsuss_serenade
Summary: Five times Nate lied for the Marines and one time he wouldn't.





	Integrity

**One**  
“Yes, sir. I observed the stove malfunction and the swift action of my Marines to treat Corporal Person.”

Nate is lying to the battalion commander. Not a white lie. Not an elision. He is bald-faced making up stories and presenting them to Ferrando as truth. And Ferrando knows he’s lying. Hell, everyone knows it. Godfather’s mask of authority is firmly in place, but Eckloff and Sixta are openly smirking behind him. Nate doesn’t feel bad about lying about the cook stove, but he’s furious that he has to. 

It’s petty bullshit, and it never should have gotten this far. It wouldn’t have if his Captain were even remotely capable of sorting out what was important from what was insignificant. It was true that his platoon had fucked up. He’d read them the riot act. He was certain Brad had as well, with ruthless efficiency. They all knew better anyway. The weeks of waiting had made them careless, and they wouldn’t let it happen again. Godfather didn’t need to get involved. Godfather wouldn’t have gotten involved, wouldn’t have asked him to report on what he’d already written, if Schwetje hadn’t expressed doubts as to its veracity. 

“Lieutenant Fick, you might want to consider writing up some of these men for commendation.” 

Fuck if Ferrando isn’t smirking at him as well now. At least Schwetje has the grace to look uncomfortable. If he had a problem with Nate’s report, he should have brought this to Nate directly. And he shouldn’t have a problem with Nate’s report, because even if it is obviously bullshit, it’s inconsequential bullshit. The Captain should trust that Nate will handle his men, because Nate has never given him any reason to think he can’t. He should know that sometimes even Marines make mistakes, and that making it official does nothing other than bog them down with bureaucracy when they’re on the brink of a war. The Captain should know that they all have more important things to be thinking about, like how they’re heading into a war zone with no maps and no batteries and a group of young Marines, some of whom hadn’t even gone though BRC.

“I will consider that, sir.”

And he does consider it. Just long enough to determine it will be a cold day in hell before he voluntarily mentions this incident ever again.

**Two**

“I know this looks like some Black Hawk Down shit we’re doing, but we’ll be the ones initiating contact not the enemy.” 

As he walks away, Nate resists the urge to shake his head at himself. He had cribbed almost that entire sentence from another officer in a different engagement. Does it matter, he wonders, if you shot first or the bad guys did? They were still driving directly through hostile terrain without much of a plan other than “Haul ass and hope for the best.” He knows Godfather would say that it does. (" _The violence of action_ " Ferrando’s voice hisses in his head.) 

The truth of the matter is that this is some Black Hawk Down shit they’re doing, and the only thing preventing it from turning into exactly that sort of dire clusterfuck is the competency of the men executing it. He has faith in his guys, and he trusts them to handle themselves during this assault. It’s his faith in them that leaves such a bad taste in his mouth when he has to stand in front of them and prevaricate. If command is trusting them to be the best of the best, then Nate should be able to say “Yes, this is going to be fucked up, but this is the way that it has to be.” It isn’t as if a single one of the men gathered around that Humvee would do anything other than his absolute best no matter how a mission is framed for them. They know what is at stake. Not one of them would accept anything less than excellent performance from any man on their teams. Their reputation is deserved; they’ve earned it.

And yet, Nate has to stand in front of them - these intelligent, fierce, brave men - and tell them that this assault on a hostile city in open topped Humvees is the strongest choice strategically, and they, for their part, have to pretend to believe him.

**Three**

Nate’s team leaders are fed up. They are tired, they are hungry, and they are experienced Marines who know bullshit when they hear it. He hasn’t even told them what the mission is yet, and Espera is already giving him lip about civilian casualties. Staring at their wary faces, he sees his own exhaustion echoed back at him. Consistently executing orders that go against their best instincts is wearing them all down. 

He knows before he starts that the details of their mission will not help him gain ground. He lays out the mission as positively as he can, focusing on the fact that they’ll be pursuing legit targets and smoothing over the part where they’re heading into the aggressively armed darkness with almost no plan and not enough supplies. It doesn’t work. 

With skilled precision, his team leaders hone in on the deepest weaknesses of the mission - the lack of batteries, the lack of escort, the lack of intel. Frustration burns in Nate’s chest. Just once he’d like to have one of these tactical discussions with a friendly audience. He is briefed by Schwetje and the air is heavy with suspicion and condescension. He comes back to his platoon and he’s met with hostility and dismay.  
Nate snaps at Brad when Brad starts up about the thermals again. He doesn’t have any batteries, Brad knows he doesn’t have any, and while they would help, thermals are not essential to this mission’s success. At this point, Brad’s bitching just to bitch, and it isn’t helping them any. He fields the next few questions with a confidence he doesn’t feel, skating by on moto phrases and curt responses.

Where it all falls apart is explaining that they’re crossing the bridge. The bridge where they’ve been told to expect an ambush. They’re crossing the bridge where they’ve been told to expect an ambush without taking the time to determine whether or not the ambush remains. Nate doesn’t need his team leaders to tell him this is a shit plan. He knows. But he’s already had this discussion with Schwetje, and there’s no adjusting the timeline. Don’t they know that he would have tried? That he wouldn’t come to them with this shit if he could bring them something better?

There’s nothing that he can tell them that is going to make them feel better about what’s going to happen next, so he pulls the mantle of Lieutenant around him as firmly as he can and says “Frankly, gentlemen, I'm not hearing the aggressiveness I'd like. Prepare your teams to step off.”

As he walks away, he can hear the group breaking up and heading to ready their teams. It’s a pyrrhic victory. Scratch that, it’s a loss if it’s anything. They’ll execute the bridge mission as planned, but only because he has left them no other choice. 

**Four**  
Nate’s been to so many meetings where Griego condescends to him repeatedly and insubordinately while Schwetje looks on unperturbed that he doesn’t immediately realize that there’s a point to this posturing. This is a threat. He almost laughs. Schwetje has gone running to Godfather about him so many times now that it’s just a matter of time before one of the charges sticks. Nate has spent whatever political capital he might have had with Godfather getting the Iraqi boys casevaced. It was the right call - humanitarian impulses aside, his men needed those boys to live. Victories were few and far between and civilian casualties were stacking up behind them. Still, he’s been living under the Sword of Damocles ever since, knowing that his luck will run out and formal charges will be brought for something, at some point, and Godfather won't step in.

“Nate, so you know, there will be no more questioning of my orders.”

This is an accusation that Nate can not let stand unchallenged. 

“Respectfully, sir, I've only tried to interpret your intent to the best of my ability.”

This is a lie, but not for the reasons Schwetje thinks it is. Nate has never questioned orders lightly. He has only done so when it was strategically important - when they were staring down a truck of men in marked vehicles with obvious hostile intent, when Marines would die unnecessarily if he didn’t. And he has always backed down when his questions are rebuffed. He unsurrendered the Iraqis, he let Schwetje get them lost _twice_ , he sent his men across an under-reconned bridge when there was a safer route, and he lost Pappy because of it.

No, this is a lie because Nate doesn’t believe Schwetje has intentions. He believes that Schwetje just strings words together in the closest semblance of sense he can manage and then digs in blindly regardless of the greater implications of the orders he’s given. Nate believes in the chain of command. He believes that command has a greater situational awareness than he does, and he believes that orders that sometimes do not make sense to him serve the greater mission. But damned if Schwetje doesn’t make Nate question that faith every time the Captain opens his mouth. 

**Five**

He didn’t feel like he was lying. If you’d asked him, he would have sworn on everything he held sacred that he was speaking the truth. His eyes were dry and gritty, and every time he looked at something brighter than a penlight, the back of his skull throbbed. He was so deeply exhausted he’d forgotten what it felt like not to be manic with adrenaline. He hadn’t slept in ages. Indignant, he rolled forward with no hesitation, getting right into Griego’s face before spitting 

“You woke me? I haven’t been to sleep in 36 hours. I have no recollection whatsoever of you waking me.” 

But through some strange alchemy, the second the words hit the air, Nate knew they were false. Recollection flickered in the back of his mind. He couldn’t remember what was said or how it had happened, but he had spoken to Griego about tanks, which meant he must have dozed off at some point. It disorients him to realize that he’d been asleep and hadn’t realized it. 

With Griego smirking at him and Rudy watching from a respectful distance, Nate can’t afford to let this slow him down. He may have blearily given permission for this mission, but he and Griego both know that this is bullshit, designed to punish Nate...for what? The crime of existing? Of not thinking that Encino Man had shit out the moon and the stars? Nate deliberately moves even closer, so that Griego has to look up to keep his eyes. He lays down the line. This will not happen again. 

When Griego backs down and walks away, Nate has to keep himself from sighing. This is going to come back and bite him sooner rather than later. It was the right thing to do, but it’s going to make his job harder, and he’s already at capacity trying to keep the bullshit rolling down from the command vehicle from swamping his guys. Also, he’s just learned that he’s too tired to be any use to them anyway, so that’s something to add to the list of concerns.

As he moves away from the Team Two’s Humvee, he hears Team Three’s stumbling, retching return and closes his eyes against a wave of guilt. He had one job. A job that could have been accomplished by simply remaining conscious, and he’d failed. He’d failed and some of his sickest men were suffering because of it. The throbbing in his skull has been joined by a painful tightness spreading through his shoulders and radiating down his arms. Mike looks up as Nate approaches their truck, but blessedly, is silent as Nate slides into the front seat. He doesn’t have the energy to pretend to be in one piece for Mike right now.

**One**

It isn’t a safe thing to say, not really. Not even to Brad while everyone else sleeps behind them. He should defend their previous missions. He just got done holding a meeting precisely to explain to his team that the feint to Al Kut had been a great success. He should remind Brad that they might not have been operating strictly within recon’s normal parameters, but that they had been chosen by the general and they should be proud. He should point out that they might not be joining the assault on Baghdad, but that they aren’t home yet either. They have missions ahead of them, and they can’t afford to loosen their defensive posture even a little. They need to keep their heads on straight. There are a lot of things that a good Marine Corps officer would say, moto phrases that were drilled into the corp’s muscle memory for good reason. 

He turns to tell Brad that their mission had been a noble, useful one, to mention the two units of the Republican Guard that they’d tied down, but Brad’s genuine dismay traps the words in the back of his throat. Brad speaking of the disappointment of this war, sharing how he had expected better, is raw and vulnerable, seemingly without noticing. He hands his hurts and his anger to Nate as if it were the safest thing in the world, as if Nate could never use them against him. Once again, what Nate wants to say and what he is expected to say as the Lieutenant are in conflict.

Unfiltered speech isn’t a luxury Nate can afford here, so gives Brad the closest thing to it that he can manage. He doesn’t agree with Brad, won’t wish them into one proper Recon mission. He knows what his men can do, but he is glad to spare them the danger of doing it in this desert, with this command, in this war. He can’t agree with Brad, but he can return Brad’s gift of honesty. His thoughts about this mission, his feelings about their entire time here are a mess of conflicting inputs, but some things are clear to him. He’s proud of what his platoon has done here. He’s grateful that they will all live to do it again another day. 

“Brad, we were the fucking first boots on the ground in the American invasion of Mesopotamia. And you got your men out alive. Might be sad about not getting your mission but for me, I got to tell you, I'm glad this is over.”

Brad’s face does the thing it does when Brad is slotting new information into his schema. His mouth is deliberately neutral, but his eyes reveal an assortment of reactions - surprise in Nate’s lack of bloodthirstiness, gratitude for having been trusted with the truth, uncertainty of what to say next.

Nate has no more honesty that it’s safe to give. It seems easier to move off this subject entirely. 

“One other thing, no more cat holes. This fucking POG camp we're in has a legit slit trench latrine. Really.”

Back on solid ground, Brad affects a serious tone “That’s my recon mission then.” He grins and heads off into the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Based solely on the characters from the hbo miniseries


End file.
